


I Know the Evil that You Do

by ihaveauseforyou



Category: Taboo (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-23 14:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 15,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10721187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihaveauseforyou/pseuds/ihaveauseforyou
Summary: James and Lorna grow together during the Atlantic crossing.  Lorna becomes a vital member of the damned, as she can save James from the Americas, the British and himself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first publication on AO3, and it has been years since I have written for fun.

James couldn’t help but notice how what he held to be facts, were in fact only fanciful delusions. He also couldn’t help but notice how other ideas were subtly creeping in and taking root. Coming in from the pouring rain and finding the house dark and quiet, James took a moment to ponder this transition. He was calmer now, not in the frenzied confused state of earlier, where he found himself contemplating blowing himself halfway to hell. Slumped in the chair, watching the dying embers, he admitted to himself that Zilpha had become someone…no… _something_ else. The curiosity and fire had been replaced by false idols- status, propriety. Shame and embarrassment, two emotions he never trifled with, tinged every word of her responses. He had slipped, in bedding her, into the old obsession. But this obsession was now rotting. Zilpha was not worthy, therefore the rot must be cut off.

James grunted and poured a glass from the decanter, and moved without a sound upstairs. Once there, and a fire lit, the trappings of society were removed to drip from the beams. Basking in the warmth of the flames in only his shirt, James let his mind pass to the idea that was creeping, vine-like, through his thoughts.

 

_Miss Bow._

 

Miss Bow. He did not doubt that she cared, and he knew that the depth of that care had grown. Images flashed in the flames, of her evening dress soaked to the knee, of the look in her eyes upon his return after dealing with the powder.

_“You said I was a weakness”_

No. She was not weak. She had steel and spark, that one. As James fell into something like sleep, he wondered what _Miss Bow_ thought of him.

 

***

 

Lorna sat at the dressing table, taking the pins out of her hair. The evening was electric, things were afoot. Wrapping her curls carefully so that they would not be crushed during sleep, the though struck her that she might be living one of her beloved plays.

“I absolutely refuse to be Ophelia,” Lorna states emphatically, out loud, and then starts. Staring into her own eyes, “Madness must be catching in this house.” After a few moments, she looks away, as her eyes in the mirror only reflect the truth.

Moving to the bed, his mother’s bed she thinks, she pulls the covers up and contemplates James. He is not the type her parents would have wished for a marriage, but Lorna never really liked traditional conventions. That is why she took to the stage, and then refused to be a courtesan. Being contrary was in her nature. But James…he stirred something in her. He made her feel empowered and yet protected. As sleep overtook her, Lorna realized that she was going to Nookta, even if she had to stow away on his ship.

 

***

 

Lorna Bow Delaney wanted to hit something. She wanted her arm to stop throbbing, she wanted to wash her hair, she wanted to throttle James for avoiding her, but most of all she wanted _out of this damned room_.

Lorna had been given the captain’s quarters as it had a bed. She wondered where everyone else was being accommodated, she had lost track of time as she had been confined to quarters. _“You need to regain your strength”_ Godfrey had said. Lorna snorted. A small shape sidled into her room. Turning her head, she forced herself to be cheerful. “Yes Robert?”

“Mr. Delaney asked me to check to see if you needed anything.”

“I would like to see Mr. Delaney, Robert. Would he have a moment?”

Lorna did not miss the look of terror that washed over Robert’s face. So. He was still avoiding her. Lorna chose her words carefully. “Robert. Please tell James that he can come see me here, and bring tea, or I can come find him on the ship. I am quite capable of movement now.”

Robert bowed his head, and Lorna thought she saw a quirk of his lips before he scurried out of the room. Lorna smiled. She had no doubt that the tea would show up long before James.

 

***

 

Atticus heard the entire exchange between James and the boy. If you could call it an exchange, when one person responded with a myriad of grunts. James walked the top deck and gazed out over the horizon. Pearl had told him, and James, that first night at sea what Mrs. Delaney did. Calmly shooting a King’s man, and preparing to shoot another when she took a shot herself. Atticus did not hold with women on a boat, bad luck that, but a whore and a hellion…that deserved some careful consideration. Atticus turned his attention back to the wheel. He hoped that James would do the right thing and go see Miss Bow. She was like a moving keg of powder, that one.


	2. Boston or Paris?

Lorna had long ago finished her tea, and was staring out of the cabin window, watching the sea churn when she heard the door open. Turning her head, she saw the familiar bulk of James standing, feet slightly apart to balance against the sway of the ship.  His eyes betrayed his wariness, and she saw guilt lurking in the depths.

“You did not shoot me, James.”

There was a pause before he responded. “No. No, I did not. But I am the reason why you were shot.  I anticipated casualties….”  The last words were spoken softly and James shifted his gaze out the window.  He returned his gaze to Lorna, his face carefully blank.  “After I complete my business in the Azores, we will be charting a course to Boston.  We can book passage for you to Paris, or I can assist you with this,” holding up the diamond he had offered her once before, “I believe there are some theaters in Boston and New York.”

Lorna pivoted so that she was now fully facing James, her eyes flashing. “Do you think that you get rid of me now?  That I am so fragile that this…this…glorified scratch is going to keep me from seeing Nookta?” 

James took a step forward and looked down at Lorna with a look that burned her skin. “I will not see you hurt again.”

The look disappeared quickly, but not before Lorna felt her breath hitch. James watched as her skin from neck to hairline flushed red.  Lorna cast her eyes at the floor, knowing he would be able to read her emotions.  Hasty declarations were not going to help the situation, and Lorna was not ready to name what she felt just yet.

“James. You should know by now that I have my own mind.  I love the theater, but this opportunity…” she glanced up at his face, “…I am completely invested in seeing your plans through.  I will see Nookta.”

James’ hand reached up, but before touching her shoulder, he hesitated and inclined his head slightly with a grunt. Lorna quirked a half smile, acknowledging his reluctant acceptance.  James stepped back,  and formally offered her his hand.  “Would you care to join us at the table?”

 

***

Lorna spent the next few days on the main deck with Robert and Pearl, reading. As the ship moved further south, the temperatures in the afternoon were increasing to the point that the sailors were removing their shirts.  The ladies on the ship, including Godfrey, would tuck up their skirts around their knees and enjoy the sea breeze as much as possible.  James never removed his shirt, but he would roll the sleeves up past his elbow, the shirt open at the throat and chest.  Lorna found herself on more than one occasion staring at the muscles of his forearms, the well formed hands, and the stretch of muscle on his chest that would peek out as he moved.  James would turn pierce her with his eyes, noting the glazed look on her face.  She would rapidly drop back into her book or look away, but the flush on her cheeks spoke of other stories.

Truth be told, James would use these moments to scan the milk white skin of her calves, the delicate feet tucked modestly into her side.

In the evenings, James would occasionally join Lorna on the deck, explaining how to use the stars for navigation. Lorna would ask questions about the places James has been on his travels, and James would keep these conversations as impersonal as possible.  The darkness of Africa was his past, and the Americas were a blank slate. 

James looked down at Lorna, as they stood in companionable silence one evening. “We will be reaching Ponta Delgada in two days time.”

Lorna returned her focus on James, “Will you be allowing anyone to go to shore?”

“Yes. I would prefer it if you would allow me to escort you at first.  I do not know how long it will take me to find Colonnade.  He tends to burn the candle at both ends.  Atticus will be asking for him in port on my behalf.  Ponta Delgada is no place for you to be walking alone.”

Lorna flashed James a smile that was visible in the dark. “I accept your invitation Mr. Delaney.”  

That evening, Lorna dreamed of tanned skin and tracing tattoos with her fingers.


	3. Two Sides to the Same Coin

The ship was anchored just off the harbor of Ponta Delgada. They had arrived in the late afternoon and groups would be allowed to go ashore the next morning.  Atticus and French Bill had been sent off on the small dingy to ‘conduct reconnaissance’ on the location of Colonnade, the only advice Lorna heard James give them as they launched was to go from whore house to whore house.  As the small boat grew smaller and approached the shore, Lorna could sense the apprehension rolling off of James like thunder.  He abruptly left and closed himself off in the first officer’s cabin, where he had been bunking.

Lorna herself as filled with excitement. She had never been further than Dublin, and was anxious dip her feet in the jeweled waters.  She dined with Godfrey and Robert, waiting to see if James would appear, and retired early when he did not emerge.

Her room was pitch black when she was abruptly awoken by moans and irregular thumping noises coming from the cabin opposite. Lorna quickly donned her wrapper over her shift and slipped out of her room.  The darkness was absolute, and she felt her way around the galley table in the great room until she reached the door.  Listening with a hand placed on the wood, it was apparent that something was being smashed against the wall.  Lorna knocked gently and whispered, “James?”

The noise continued. Lorna, remembering glimpses of James in a stupor by the drawing room fire in London, made a decision.  She opened the door.

James was in his shirt, sitting cross legged on the floor. His face, chest and hands streaked with pigments.  Uttering in another language, eyes open but unseeing, he was ramming his head into the wall.  Blood tricked from his temple and mixed with the pigment. 

“James!” she gasped and moved to his side, bending to grasp his shoulders. The next thing she knew she was seeing stars and unable to breath as his hands were wrapped around her throat. Her hands scrabbled at his and she looked into his eyes trying to reach him in the depths.  She twisted and wedged her knee in his groin, and with a burst of adrenaline, pressed down as hard as she could.

A rumbled “ _Arrghh_! _Fucking hell_!” burst forth from James, and he eyes focused.  Panic flitted through his eyes when he registered who he was throttling, and he released her throat.  Lorna scrambled on her hands and knees over to the opposite corner where, white faced, she pulled in lungful’s of air.  She would have bruises in the morning, ropelike, around her neck.

“Lorna…Lorna.” James slowly crawled nearer to her. “I’m…I’m not going to hurt you.”   She stared at him for a moment, swallowed, and nodded.  It was more the use of her first name that calmed her nerves somewhat.  They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, but were most likely just a few minutes.

“You’re bleeding,” Lorna murmured, “And I think that you _damned well better_ tell me what is going on.”

James settled his back against his cot and looked at his hands in his lap. Too many thoughts were running through his head- how do you tell someone that the dead haunt you?  That you have no fear during the day, but at night…at night all you have is fear.  And guilt.  James sighed and scrubbed his hand over his hair. Lorna knew then that he was nervous, perhaps even scared. When he looked up into her eyes, her heart broke, as all she could see was vulnerability. 

Lorna spoke softly, all the while keeping eyes locked with James, “I was raped repeatedly by my father until he committed suicide when I was nineteen years of age. I know what it is to be haunted by the dead James.  They do not let you go, nor do they let you forget.”  Her face did not register any emotion, her voice did not crack.  But a single tear escaped and slowly drew a line down her cheek.  

James did not say anything, but reached out a hand and traced the tear, leaving pigment in its wake. He let his hand slowly drop and tangled his fingers with hers.  He gave a gentle squeeze and after a moment, Lorna squeezed back.


	4. Breaking the Ice

Their fingers still entwined, James stood and gently pulled Lorna to a standing position. His left hand moving to her waist when she wobbled on unsteady legs.  He did not miss the quick intake of breath or the flush on her cheeks at the additional contact.  He sat her down on his cot and pulled away, turning to the basin of water in the corner.  He quickly splashed water over his face and hair, removing all trace of paint.  He shook himself like a dog, and turning to Lorna stated, “I will get you some fresh water.”

Lorna’s eyes refocused on the small room as he left. This was highly irregular, sitting on a man’s bed, in her shift, in the middle of the night.  She breathed in, and forced herself to relax.  James had not thrown her out, and may continue the conversation of before.  If revealing a bit of her past would break through some of this self-imposed madness, Lorna was up for the challenge.

James returned with a full basin of clean water and a rag. Dipping the rag in the water, he wrung it out and turned to wipe the tear and pigment from her cheek.  The act was so incredibly gentle, that Lorna closed her eyes and sighed.  James rinsed the rag and then placed it over the blossoming bruises on her neck.  The cool water felt like sin. Lorna felt the cot mattress flex, and opening her eyes saw that James had sat down, but had put some distance between them.

James eyed Lorna as he mulled over the thoughts in his head. The rag was dripping water down her throat, the drops gliding down to the swell of her breasts.  The white muslin of her bodice becoming almost transparent under his gaze.  When a large drop disappeared between her breasts, Lorna glanced down and shifted her wrap so that she was, once again, modestly covered.  She raised her eyes to meet his.

“I guess we cannot wait to reach America. So I will ask, James, and you will answer.  Why do the dead sing to you?” 

When he did not answer, Lorna leaned back against the wall and stared straight ahead, avoiding his scrutiny. “I was the oldest of four girls, James.  My father never forgave my mother for providing him with four female mouths to feed, and as the oldest, he decided that I must provide him with some type of service.  And service him I did, for almost ten years.  At all times the services were provided after some type of beating, to which I was supposed to be grateful that he avoided damaging my face.”  Lorna turned to face James, “At nineteen, one of my sisters made a good marriage and secretly gave me five pounds.  I left that night for London and never went back.  My father committed suicide two months later after hearing that I was working on the stage.  He claimed that _I was disgracing him_ ,”  Lorna’s soft voice dripped with a venom that James had not heard before.  “I would see him in my dreams every night.  And even though I knew that he is gone, for the past four years I would see him on every street corner and in every audience.”

Lorna paused, and dropped her eyes to her hands, which were tensed into fists. “Until you had me released from prison. Then it stopped.”

James reached over and forced her hands to relax, peeling her small fingers up with his much larger digits. Looking at the palms, there were bloody crescents visible- her nails had bitten into her flesh. 

“If you were to ask Brace, he would tell you that my mother is trying to kill me,” James said as he released her hands. “The dead sing to me and tell me what they want. Obstacles that will be in the way. Some things are very clear, others are more…opaque.”

“And what do _you_ want, James?”

“To be free.”

“Free from what, the dreams? Society? People?” Lorna felt brittle and transparent, like the first layer of ice in winter. Take one wrong step and you will plunge through. 

James looked deep into her eyes and saw hope and fear mixed. Normally he would have just sent her off to bed, but after what had transpired he knew he owed her a real answer. “I wish to be my own master.  I wish to protect my mother’s tribe.  I wish to provide a clean slate for all of those incorporated into my plans.”  James stood and presented his hand to help her up.  “I wish to escort you tomorrow into port.  As it is late, I will see you back to your door.”

Taking a lantern, James walked her back across the great room. At her door he paused, and brought her hand to his lips.  Ghosting a kiss across her knuckles, he whispered, “I wish to learn more about you, Lorna.  Until tomorrow.”  He abruptly turned and made his way back to his cabin, closing the door.

Lorna returned to bed, rubbing her knuckles across her lips.


	5. An Invitation

James woke to the sound of gulls as the first haze of morning entered his cabin. Stretching, he donned his pants and moved towards the deck.  Lorna’s door was closed, he noted with a passing glance.

On deck, he saw her. The glow of the sunrise making her hair turn to flame.  She was leaning against the rail watching the sun burn off the haze over the hills of the island.  James moved to her side, his eyes on her face rather than the scenery.  The chemist was right, she was beautiful.  But James was noticing more often that it was what she said, and how she said it that caused a telltale tightening in his breeks.  And he knew know that the interest was reciprocated.  Her eyes and the fact that she blushed so damn easily gave it away.

“It is so beautiful,” Lorna whispered, “I never imagined that the hills would look blue.”

“It is a certain plant that makes them look blue. And if you look higher on the hills, you will see our other goal while here.  The grape vines.”  He pointed to various hills.

“Grape vines? Will you be acquiring wine?” Lorna turned to James.

“Some of the Kingdom of Portugal’s best wines come from the Azores. I plan to use the wine for trade once we reach Boston.”

Lorna face settled into that familiar half-smile. “You have just revealed more information on your plans than you have in the past weeks.”

“I intend to keep you damned.” Lorna flushed at his words, as they were accompanied by a searing look that vanished just as quickly as it came.  James turned to walk away, when Lorna gently grasped his arm.

“James. Last night.  You do know that you can talk to me.”  Lorna paused, not knowing what else to say.  She had shared her largest secret, but knew that she could not force any type of reciprocity.  James softly took her hand away, and squeezed, before moving away.  That would have to suffice for now, as there was business to attend to.

***

A small party was going ashore, consisting of James, Godfrey, Lorna and Robert. Atticus and French Bill were still on the island, and the remainder of the crew were attending to various repairs and cleaning of the ship. Lorna noted that Godfrey was in breeches, and had tied his lengthening hair back.  James gave him a subtle nod as they boarded the small row boat, and grasped his shoulder.  “You know I don’t give a damn if you wear the gown, Godders, but I might need you and the boy to run an errand or two.”

Lorna saw the quick quirk of Godfrey’s head in response, and they all settled in for the journey to shore. Robert looked as excited as she felt, with the wind ruffling his hair.  Lorna leaned over to tuck a curl down and smooth his collar as they neared the dock.  When she looked up, James was observing the interaction with a slight smile.  Lorna looked at their group and decided that they looked as respectable as the League of the Damned could, all things considered.

James climbed up to the dock first to help the other out. “Meet us here in five hours time,” he instructed his men.  He offered Lorna his elbow, and with Godfrey and Robert behind, strode down the dock toward the harbor town. 

Lorna did not know where to look first. The buildings were varied, some small and made of stucco, others larger and similar to those in London.  There were a few horse drawn carriages, and she noted that the women’s fashions she saw ran the gamut from the empire waist gowns of London, to more continental full skirted fashions of America, to some wraps in colorful patterns that she assumed came from Africa.

At their first stop, a ship’s supply store, James negotiated for additional supplies for the remainder of the journey, and left Godfrey and Robert to arrange for the transport to the ship. James pressed a coin into Godfrey’s hand and instructed him to “keep the boy amused and fed until we meet at the dock.”

James then turned to Lorna. “Would you care for lunch and tea?”

Lorna agreed, but she knew James well enough to understand that this public display was for more than just one purpose. James escorted her to the salon at the largest hotel, which by its design was meant to lure any European visitors.  They took a table on the large veranda.

James held the chair for her as she sat, and then took a chair himself. Lorna leaned over and muffled her voice with her hand, “Your manners are impeccable, but I believe you are up to something, sir.”  She cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Wait, watch and enjoy your tea,” was the placid response.

Lorna did not have to wait for long. They had been served a delightful chilled soup when a messenger approached. 

“Mr. Delaney?” He asked. He received a grunt of acknowledgement.  “For you, sir.”  An envelope was placed in James’ hand.

After scanning the letter, James turned to Lorna. “Do you feel like more dancing?”  The half-smile returned to her face.

“Will I be attending with you? …………Wait. James. What am I to wear?  I am assuming that I need to look a part.”

“Getting you a suitable gown is our next order of business, followed by meeting with various wine merchants. And Lorna, when we meet with the merchants, I need you to hide that intelligence of yours.”

“So you expect me to be a simpering idiot.”

“Yes. For when we attend this soiree in three days hence, they will expect me to be looking for secrets, but not you.”

Lorna sipped her tea. “You are going to have to give me more, James.”

James pulled out his pocket watch and looked at the time. He did not return it, instead rubbing the face with his thumb, circle after circle after circle.  He did not doubt that she meant more information, but he also suspected that there was a deeper meaning behind her words.  James knew he was attracted to the fiery redhead, but had no time as of yet to start pondering what he wanted, or was willing (Hell, capable was a better word) to do.  After her confessions of last night, James decided to take a step forward.

“Lorna. I will give you more details on what I am looking for on the ship. In the meantime,” He looked up to capture her gaze, “I give you my word that I will not allow further harm come to you, and that I will not sell your soul for beads…it is much more valuable than that.”

James stood and extended his hand. Lorna placed her hand in his, and they left the salon.  At the General Store they were put into contact with a seamstress, who showed a number of gowns that were near completion that could be tailored to fit Lorna’s petite frame.  James did not hesitate, but immediately picked a pale green silk with embroidered flowers at the hem.  Lorna was escorted to a back room by the woman to take her measurements.  While waiting, James saw a necklace of silver with a small emerald.  The vision of this resting on her breast came surging into his mind. He paid for the gown and the necklace, placing the small package in his pocket. 

The meetings with various wine merchants went well, and various casks of sweet and dry reds being sent to the ship, James and Lorna made their way back to the dock. Lorna was determined to get some answers over dinner.


	6. Shift by Candlelight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter on purpose- I am dipping my toes (only toes right now) into the realm of smut. There will be no diving in, but in the future I will have the legs in up to the knees.

Lorna ate a light repast with Godfrey and Robert as James was huddled in a corner with Atticus and French Bill. Robert was flushed and talked endlessly about their adventures on shore.  Lorna and Godfrey both listened appreciatively as Robert rarely spoke more than a few words at a time.  Lorna was thrilled to see Robert slowly coming out of his shell.  Her eyes kept glancing in the corner, and towards the end of the meal her gazed locked with James.  When she stood to excuse herself, James wrapped up his discussion, grabbed a biscuit from a plate, and moved to meet her by her door.  “I must review the cargo deliveries from today, but I could continue our discussion from lunch in a few hours.”

Lorna inclined her head slightly, “That would be lovely. I have questions.”  James cocked an eyebrow, gave a rare chuckle, and moved to joint Atticus in the hold.

 

***

Lorna rummaged through her bag of meager belongings looking for a book to pass the time. Packing only the essentials prior to boarding the ship, she had accidentally grabbed the book of erotic prose that Cholmondeley had gifted her.  She pulled the book out, shrugged her shoulders, and settled on the bed to read.

Half an hour later, Lorna was regretting her cavalier attitude. Cholmondeley, damn his eyes, had picked a very _imaginative_ book.  Although her sexual experience thus far had been traumatic, Lorna – a romantic at heart- understood that the act of love could be much more than violent.  What she had experienced by the hand of her father was more about his power over her.  It was perfectly natural for her to be curious, she rationalized, while her thoughts ran rampant with visions of strong arms and thighs, banded with tattoos, sliding against her skin.  Lorna shut the book and fanned her face with it.  After the exertions of the day, combined with the sea air from the trips to and from the shore, she felt covered in hot, salty sweat.  As there was no possible way that Atticus could be done with James, she went and obtained a basin of water and a wash cloth.  Encouraged by the grunts and loud noises of heavy cargo being moved coming from the hold, Lorna returned to her cabin.  She lit two lanterns as the sun had set completely, and removed her day gown and hose.  Standing in her shift, she laved one leg then the other with the cool, wet wash cloth, allowing them to air dry.  Her shift, plastered to her skin with the water, was hiked up to mid-thigh.  Lorna sighed in relief, and loosened the ties as the bosom.  Pushing the shoulder straps of her shift down, Lorna wrung out the wash cloth and applied the cool cloth to her arms and breasts.

It was as she was passing the cloth over her left breast that James, without knocking, opened the cabin door. The image of Lorna, softly lit by the candle light, shift in disarray and nearly transparent, would be burned into his memory forever.  He took in the long, lean legs, the pert breasts, how her shift blurred but did not hide the thatch of hair at the junction of her thighs.  She shifted to cover her chest, her eyes boring holes into his.  James, ever observant, noticed her dilated pupils and the scent of arousal in the air.  He took a slow step forward, and raised his hand to cup her face, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb. 

“You are beautiful.” He dropped his hand. “Dress. Then we will discuss my plans.  Come to my cabin.”  He left and closed her door.   Once back in his cabin, James closed his eyes and let out a long breath. _Need_ and _Want_ pulsed through his veins.  It had been far too long since James had felt any kind of release.  Although he frequented the whore house most evenings while in London, Helga and her whores were for his use as pawns, and therefore not for rent.  Self abuse was a waste of time – time that had been better spent plotting his revenge.  And with Lorna, there were other emotions that were surfacing.  Words like _care, protect, value_ seemed to be popping up in his thoughts more frequently where she was concerned.  He sighed again, and adjusted himself.  Now was not the time, and his cock would just have to wait. 


	7. Colonnade

James did not have to wait long for Lorna to knock on his door, which increased his esteem for her. Women who took hours over their toilet were of no use for him.  Face flushed, she entered the room, but although embarrassed, she did not avoid his gaze.  She had quickly tidied her hair and wrapped herself in her dressing gown.  James internally noted that her curiosity won over her embarrassment. “Please sit.”  Lorna arranged herself on the only chair in the room, and James lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“You know that I am looking for a man named Colonnade.” Lorna nodded in response.  James continued, “The Americans have reached out with the invitation to the ball to honor the Capitan General of the Azores, [Aires Pinto de Sousa Coutinho](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aires_Pinto_de_Sousa_Coutinho), who will be visiting the island of Sao Miguel.  This means that members of his cabinet will be with him, which also means that every marriage ready female on these islands will be parading their wares.  It is my experience that in these instances women talk to cut out their rivals, and men talk to woo your favor.”  Lorna mulled this over for a few moments before asking, “What exactly are you looking for?”

James grunted, and shifted his position on the bed so that he was propped up against the headboard. “Any news at all. I have no idea if we beat the news from London.  Any news on the East India or the political climate is needed.  Napoleon abdicated during our crossing here, so there are many different outcomes that could impact trade.  Colonnade himself is a lover of women.  If he should show you any favor, I need you to use that to best advantage.  Within reason.”

“By within reason, I hope you understand that I will not whore myself for you, James”

James sat up fully, “If anyone should touch you in an inappropriate matter, they will need to deal with me.” His voice was like iron, and he held Lorna’s gaze for a moment.  “One last drop of information, Lorna.  They do not know that our ship still has supplies for a month.  What we have laid on from Ponta Delgada will not get us to America- if we did not already have supplies.  I would like the rumor that we are low on supplies to circulate.  It then gives us the option to disappear overnight if needed. Now sleep.  I need you rested.”

“And you, James? Will you be getting any rest?” Lorna stood and looked up at his tired eyes when he stood also. 

James shook his head, “I will rest when this is behind us.”

***

The next two days were a flurry of activity below decks as the ship was made ready to sail. On deck, crew and passengers alike were instructed to set a leisurely pace, so that any eyes watching the ship would report minimal activity.  

Lorna soon found herself in her cabin preparing for the ball. Pearl kindly offered her assistance, as did Godfrey.  Between the three of them, they had managed to twist her hair into a becoming style off her face, with tendrils artfully drawing attention to her delicate neck.  The seamstress had delivered the gown that afternoon, and as promised, it fit her like a glove. 

James quietly entered her cabin to find her pacing back and forth. He gently pivoted her so that she was facing away from him, and he placed the emerald necklace around her neck.  Lorna gasped and touched the stone gently. 

“You must look the part.” James held out his hand, and Lorna took it.  “Remember,” he continued, “I will be with you.”

***

They were announced as Mr. and Mrs. James Delaney, which made James cock an eyebrow and Lorna quickly stifled a laugh. After that, the ball seemed a blur to Lorna as she was passed from one grouping to another.  She cataloged any information that she felt could be useful and pried for information like a seasoned socialite.  News from London had just arrived that day apparently.  She was shocked to learn of the demise of Sir Stuart Strange, and many of the rumors on how and why he died.  Many blamed the Prince Regent.  Some as they said this eyed James askance from across the room.  She was not surprised to hear that there was now a bounty on James’ head, placed there by the Crown.   She was assured by a Portuguese Countess that the Americas and the Portuguese had little interest in aiding the British Crown.  The Countess was very shrewd, and did ask how Mr. Delaney was going to manage to keep his head in British North America.  As Lorna had no information on this subject, all she could do was keep her mouth shut.

Towards the end of the evening she was approached by a portly American man who was sweating profusely and was worse for wear in drink. As he deftly separated Lorna from the other women she had been speaking with, Lorna scanned the room looking for James.  She could not find him, and found that her pulse was quickening.  She took a deep breath and focused. 

“I am sure you can guess who I am pretty bird,” the man whispered over her cheek with breath that reeked of wine.

Lorna attempted to move to one side so that she had a clear line of escape. The man blocked her progress with his right arm against the wall.  “Let me guess, you must be Colonnade.”

Colonnade dipped his head in a mock bow, which gave him a lovely view of her bosom. “Got it in one, pretty bird.  Now why did James not clip your wings?  Such a pretty bird with fine plumes.  Maybe I can convince him to trade you for what he needs to secure Nookta?”

“And what, pray tell, do you think James needs to secure Nookta?” Lorna bit out as he drew his left hand down the cleft between her breasts. He hooked his finger in the fabric of the bodice and was slowly pulling it down.

“Why, he needs to sell Nookta to the United States in exchange for an exclusive license to trade. It is the only way around the price on his head.  If he even sets foot on British soil, he will die.”  Colonnade started slipping his hand into her bodice to grasp her breast.

“Such touching concern for my well-being,” James intoned drily. Colonnade inhaled quickly, and Lorna glanced down.  James was pressing his knife into Colonnade’s vast belly.  “Now.  Remove your hand from this lady or I will remove your thumb and first finger.”

Colonnade stood quickly and Lorna smoothed the fabric of her dress. James pulled her to his side.  “I will be meeting with you tomorrow to discuss your impertinence, Colonnade.  It seems that you need reminding yet again what is mine and what is yours.”

“Of course,” muttered Colonnade, “ I will make myself available at noon if that would suit you?”

James gave an abrupt nod. “Good evening.”  James tucked Lorna’s arm in his and escorted her to the main entrance.  “Stay here.  Talk to no one. I will order our carriage and get us back to the dock.”  He squeezed her arm for reassurance.

When their carriage arrived he helped her inside. He settled next to her and tapped the roof, placing his hat on the opposite bench.  After the carriage left the lights of the villa behind, Lorna shifted to her side and asked if he would like a full report, but before she could even complete the sentence his lips were on hers.

Lorna stiffened for a brief moment, but then relaxed and returned the kiss. His lips were soft and full.  When James felt her body soften he reached over and pulled her onto his lap.  He wanted nothing more than to crush her to him, to claim her, his rage at the actions of Colonnade feeding his fire.  Lorna wrapped her arms around his neck, treading one gloved hand into his hair at the nape. James deepened the kiss and slid his tongue along the seam of her lips. Lorna moaned into his mouth and in that moment all James wanted to do was awaken her and show her what pleasure could be.  He broke the kiss and smoothed his hand along her thigh.  “Let me take care of you,” he breathed.  She looked deep into his eyes and what she saw there caused a shiver to run up her spine.  Lorna licked her lips and nodded.  James removed his gloves and cradled her in one arm.  He resumed kissing her, tasting her, nipping at her bottom lip.  His other hand slowly pulled up her shirts to the knee and he teased the skin above her stocking with his fingers.  Slowly his fingers moved to her mound, where he began soft strokes over her curls.  When he parted her lips, he found her wet and shaking.  Lorna, overwhelmed by sensations, closed her eyes and buried her face in his neck.  His musk causing her to forget anything outside of his touch.  When she began to gasp, James inserted one finger into her opening, and massaged her button of nerves with his thumb.  Her trembling increased and her legs parted to give him better access. Her walls began to flutter around his finger so he increased the speed and added pressure by curling his finger.  Lorna was moaning his name into his neck when she tensed and arched her back into his touch.  He gently slowed his ministrations to allow her to ride out the after shocks of her orgasm. 

Lorna placed a hand on his cheek and tilted his face down to meet hers. “Thank you,” she hummed as she kissed him.  James lifted his fingers to his mouth and Lorna watched as his tongue swirled over his fingers, tasting her salt and slick. He noticed the flicker of desire in her eyes.  “When we return to the boat…” James started.  “My cabin,” Lorna completed for him, and kissed him soundly.


	8. Good Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut. SMUT SMUT!
> 
> Dedicated to all the wonderful smut that I have appreciated in the Taboo and Inception fandoms. James/Eames/Tom Hardy **sigh**

As French Bill rowed them back to the ship, James spoke in hushed tones in Lorna’s ear. “We will be leaving the Azores in a few hours, under the cover of darkness.  It will take a bit of time, but I will come to you in your cabin.”  Lorna nodded in acknowledgement, as she did not trust her voice.  James continued, “Do not change.  I wish to show you the proper …attention… you deserve.”

He felt her trembling in response.

It did not take long to reach the Good Hope. James gave Lorna a hand up on the ladder, and quickly followed.  Lorna paused long enough to hear James giving the quiet orders to Atticus to prepare the ship for departure in two hours’ time. A cluster of crew gathered around.

“All deck lights are to be extinguished. Minimal cabin lights.  We are going to lead those on shore to believe that we have retired for the night.  The breeze should hold, and get us around the southern side of the islands.  We will then chart a course for Boston.”  James looked around at the crew assembled on deck, and motioned Robert over.  “Escort Ms. Bow to her cabin, and then make the rounds to snuff the majority of the cabin lanterns.”  Robert nodded and turned to Lorna.

***

Lorna, after lighting one candle and placing it far away from her window, sank onto her bed. The trembling of earlier was increasing.  She wanted this, and him, more than she could have imagined.  Her blood burned and she felt an ache that was not only uncomfortable, but spiked every time she moved.  Her mind, though, was starting to fill with all her self-doubt, all voiced in the tenor of her father.

_Why would anyone want you? You are useless except on your back.  You have nothing to give anyone._

As these thoughts swirled, over and over, tears coursed down her face. Lorna rocked back and forth with arms wrapped around her knees.

***

Atticus had the crew in order and after an hour of overseeing the clandestine operations and reviewing the maps, James knew the ship was in good hands. The additional crew taken on by Atticus were seasoned sailors, and with the promise of an extra payment upon arrival in Boston, were attentive and kept their mouths shut.  James grunted approval to Atticus, and left the helm.

Undoing his cravat, James approached Lorna’s door ready to knock, when he heard the muffled sounds of sobbing. James was no stranger to the emotional scars of having your body used against your will.  Pleasure was hard fought when all you knew was pain.  He hesitated at the door, pondering if this was too soon.  He replayed from memory the look on her face of bliss mixed with gratitude from the carriage, and opened the door.

He quietly stepped in and closed the door behind him. He bent down to the small woman who was now crumpled on the bed.  Cautiously he slid his hand over her arm in a soothing motion.  She turned her tear stained face to his.  James stood, removed his cravat, and unbuttoned his vest.  Setting both aside, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing toned chest and tattoos.  He noted that her crying was slowing, if not stopped, as he undid the buttons on his trousers.  He bent to take off his boots and socks, and then pushed his trousers down and off.  He stood there, naked and half erect, for a few moments so that she could drink him in.  He crouched down and wiped away the tears from her cheek.  He gently lifted her arm and pulled her hand to his chest, so that she could feel the slightly erratic beat of his heart. He then moved her hand down to cup his cock.  “Do you feel what you do to me?”  He asked.  He received a whispered _“yes”_ in response.  James stood and slowly brought Lorna to her feet with him. 

“You are beautiful, and you are mine.” James growled. James turned her around and kissed her neck, nipping at the skin behind her ear, as he attached the buttons on her dress.  He wrapped an arm around her waist after peeling the dress off, and pulled her flush against his chest.  Lorna gasped at the feeling of his erection pressing against her buttocks, but thought of little else after he began worrying her nipples through her shift.  She closed her eyes and leaned her head back on his shoulder.  James began working at the ties on her shift bodice and slowly let the last remnants of her clothing pool to the floor.  He stroked her body softly, reverently, pulling shivers and moans from her as he moved over her skin.  He spun her around and pulled her up so that he held her while she wrapped her legs around his waist.  He kissed her then, not gently, but with urgency and depth, tasting her and making her taste him.  She responded more quickly than he imagined, and he felt her wetness as she ground herself against his shaft.  He pulled out of the kiss and caught her eye.  “No.  Your pleasure first, and I will make you come part again.”

James laid her on the bed and moved between her knees when Lorna caught his head and pulled him to her. “James, I need…I need you to kiss me for now,” she breathed.  He paused and nodded, this was a request that he would grant for now. Settling on his side, he took her lips again with bruising intensity.  He moved his lips down her throat, as he moved his right hand down to her breasts.  Abrading one nipple, and then the other, he whispered into her skin.  _You are beautiful, Mine. Precious._

Lorna’s breath was coming out in short gasps. James tightened the arm around her body as he lowered his other hand to her lower lips.  Ghosting his finger over the curls and her upper thighs, he watched as her muscles tensed and twitched.  He parted her folds and found her soaked.  He slipped two fingers into her with ease and pressed his palm against her clit.  He took up a slow steady rhythm as he plundered her mouth again and again with his tongue.  He could tell she was beginning to unravel, and watched as she finally let go.  Her face flushed, her hand instinctively pressing his hand into her more deeply as she arched of the bed with a scream that ended in a groan.  He gently kissed her as he removed his fingers, gathering some of her slick.  He wrapped his hand over his cock to spread the wetness over his shaft.  She opened her eyes at the sound of wet skin on skin, and he saw her eyes dilate at the picture of him stroking himself.   _So there is some wanton in there_ he chuckled to himself.  It would be his pleasure to slowly bring this side of Lorna out.

James shifted he weight over Lorna and positioned himself at her entrance. He glanced up to her face as if to ask permission, when Lorna moaned, “Make me yours.”  James thrust himself into her until he was fully sheathed in warm and wet.  His eyes closed and he body shook at the feeling.  He leaned in, settling his weight on his elbows as he kissed her, and began to move inside her.  Lorna wrapped her arms around and dragged her nails down his back, feeling the strength of him. James felt the coiling in his belly, and moved to a position on his knees with her legs wrapped around his waist, elevating her slightly off the bed.  His thrusts became more forceful but inconsistent, and he reached down to strum her clit with his thumb. 

Her hands gripped the blankets in knots as he demanded “Let go, Mine. Come with me,” and with a final thrust he spilled his seed.  He flicked his thumb faster as he continued to thrust through his orgasm, pulling her over the edge with him.

Panting, he lay next to her and pulled her to his chest. Lorna smiled with her eyes closed and placed a hand over his heart as she pressed her face into his chest.  James grunted a sated grunt, as he kissed her forehead.  “Sleep.”


	9. Open Ocean

The next morning James awoke as the pall of night was turning grey, and the first tendrils of sun light were peeking over the horizon. He quickly extricated himself from Lorna, who slept like a weed, roots and leaves wrapping over his limbs and luring him into the deepest sleep he had had in years.  He made sure she was covered and grabbed his trousers.  It was time to go above and see if they had managed to sneak away.

On deck he found French Bill at the wheel, and the sails full. Turning three hundred and sixty degrees, he could see neither land nor other ships on the horizon.  Approaching French Bill he grunted, the grunt ending clearly in a question mark.

“No signs of any other ships behind us even with the glass. The wind has been strong since looping past the last island.”

“Good. Do you need relief?”

French Bill looked straight ahead shook his head. James grunted again and proceeded below to find some tea.  Upon returning to her cabin, he found Lorna still asleep.  James carefully set the tea tray down, and paused to take her in.  He now knew that this consummation of their attraction to each other was inevitable, but he could feel the stirrings of other emotions within him.  Now was not the time for any hasty declarations, both their futures depended on if they could trust each other.  For James knew that the Nookta Treaty could not stay in his name.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and settled himself next to her on the cot. He took her earlobe between his teeth and nuzzled the soft flesh gently.  Lorna sighed happily and rolled so that she was nose to nose before she slowly opened her eyes half way.

“You are up insufferably early this morning, James.”

“I brought tea. And then we could slack other thirsts.” James growled.  He sat and poured two cups, handing her one.  Lorna, flushed bright red, took the cup and sipped, her eyes large as she stared back.  She set the cup on her lap, and her eyes followed. Looking down, he could tell that she was gathering her wits or courage about her.

“James. I think you understand that this is not just… _fucking_ for me.” 

James set his cup on the tray, and grasped her chin, pulling her eyes up so that she could see him. “Lorna.  I am a very dangerous man, but not to you.  You are mine. I will endeavor to know you and allow you to know me.  I ask for honesty and that you do not betray me.”  James took her cup, setting it aside.  He kissed her then, a hard and possessive kiss that seared her to the core.  James tipped her back on the bed and undid his trousers, exposing his semi-erect shaft.  He quickly pulled the blanket away from her body and spread her legs.  Kneeling between her thighs, he ran a finger through her curls.  Lorna gasped and closed her eyes.

Using his fingers, James spread her folds to take in the sight of her, pink and glistening. He leaned in and laved her with his tongue, causing her to moan.  He sought out her bundle of nerves and sucked and licked until her head was rolling back and forth, incoherent mumblings spilling from her mouth.  James hummed and pushed his tongue into her channel, causing her hips to rise off of the bed.  Moving one hand to anchor her to the bed, he alternated between sucking her clit and plunging into her depths.  His cock throbbed and wept at the tip, the noises she was making driving his passion.  He inserted two, then three fingers inside her, focusing his tongue on where she needed it the most.  As she came, with his name spilling off her lips in a moan, James gently slowed his ministrations and then stood.  He took his cock in his hand and spread the precum with his thumb.  Lorna pushed up onto her elbows and watched with a look of pure hunger. 

As her breathing evened out she whispered “James. I want to take you into my mouth.”  His cock twitched, and she slowly slid to the floor, taking the blanket with her.  Kneeling in front of him, she grasped him firmly and rubbed the tip over her closed lips.  “I have not done this before.”

James placed a hand on the crown of her head, “I cannot guarantee that I will be gentle.” Lorna cocked an eyebrow and swirled her tongue over the tip. The taste was salty and very male, she decided.  She took him in as deeply as she could and began moving over his cock, using her tongue to add additional stimulation. James’ eyes became dark and his hips began thrusting of their own accord, causing Lorna to gag.  He stopped and pulled back, but she took a large gasp of air and shook her head, and took him into her mouth again.  Spit was dripping down her chest, and her breathing was again erratic.  James took this all in through lidded eyes.  Lorna reached up with one hand and cupped his balls, kneading gently.  James moaned and tipped his head back, but when she pressed on the skin at the base of his balls near his ass, he suddenly came with a strangled cry.  He cock pulsed in her mouth flooding her with his cum.  He slowly pulled out and watched as his cum mixed with the spit on her breasts.  He pulled her up and slammed her to his chest, not caring that they were now both marked with bodily fluids.  After a kiss, he settled her back on the cot.  Closing his trousers, he turned to the door.  “I will be back with water and cloth to clean you.”

He returned quickly and swabbed her chest and face gently, before cleaning his chest. He then sat on the cot with his back against the wall, pulling her to him.  She sat in his arms quietly, tracing his tattoos with a finger. After some time, she looked up with the half smile on her face, “I guess I will never be a lady.  I do not think that will matter in the wilds of Vancouver Island.”

James grunted, “I never wanted a lady. And what I will be asking of you will be unconventional.  But never doubt that my uses for you keep growing. The only other person that applies to is Robert.”

Lorna patted his chest, “Ahh, Robert. James….”

“I do not know Lorna. He could be.  Regardless of what or who he is, he is smart.  And I feel that I have an obligation.”

“I am very happy to hear that James.” She pulled him in for a kiss, “Very happy.”


	10. Bound

The next few weeks saw the Good Hope skirting the East coast of the Americas, land never in sight, but everyone on the ship new that the future was imminent, causing excitement and some fear. Godfrey became more withdrawn, his misgivings about the Americans lack of judgment written in every look.  Pearl too was quiet and contemplative.  Lorna sympathized with them all, as James was back to being a closed box.  She knew he would reveal what he needed to when the time was right.  She hoped that those revelations would ease some of the worry.

Their relationship was newborn and complex. As she sat on the deck watching the horizon, she contemplated the last few weeks with a crooked smile.  It was like a dance that they did not know all the movements – sometimes they were in perfect time, steps matched and graceful.  Other times it felt as if he bowed and she curtsied at the same time, resulting in smacking each other in the head.  Intimacy was sporadic, at best, both knew the other _wanted_ , but between her inexperience and his demons, many nights were still spent alone.  Most nights, even the nights were she could tell that the Delaney madness was more there than not, he would escort her to her cabin and wish her a good night.  Lorna rested her head against the rail.  Last night she had grasped his hand and asked him to share her bed.  He had kissed her then, rough and biting, and advised her that although he wanted to very much, he knew that he would not be able to treat her properly.  Lorna snorted out loud.  Damn the man, maybe she wouldn’t mind a bit of un-proper treatment.

“What an un-lady like noise.”

Lorna started, “How is it that someone so large in person and in character can be so quiet?” she huffed. James chuckled as he moved to sit beside her.

“The letter you received from the Countess has proven it worth.”

“How so?”

“It contained the flag code to display to negotiate through the blockades. We have not been accosted or boarded.”

Lorna raised an eyebrow. “I am glad that I could be of use to you, Mr. Delaney.”

James glanced at her, grunted, and then returned his gaze out to sea. “Mine, you proved your worth the moment you stabbed the Duke of Richmond.” 

James stood. Looking down at her, he took off his hat.  “I would like to request your presence in my cabin this evening for a private supper.”  Lorna scrambled up and dusted off her skirts.  “So formal, Mr. Delaney.  I accept.  Are you ready to include me in your plans?  What should I wear?”

James took her hand and bent over to brush his lips against her fingers. He whispered into the delicate skin, looking up to see her reaction, “Yes.  And wear something that can be easily removed.”

***

Later that evening, Lorna knocked on his cabin door, dressed in her wrap and shift. James opened the door and stepped aside to let her enter.  After closing the door, he pulled her to him and kissed her thoroughly. 

“Your hair is down. I approve.  Come- sit.” 

The small table was heaped with various foodstuffs, and James had selected a bottle of the wine obtained in the Azores. Pouring her a glass, he moved to his chair.  Eating, he purposefully kept the topics light and off the topic of landing in Boston.  After Lorna had eaten her fill, he set the plates outside the door, and refilled their glasses.

“When we reach Boston, I have a number of issues to resolve. First, I must sell this ship, as I will obtain a new ship that is larger, with a larger crew.  Drake’s Passage is not for the faint at heart.  Second, the journey to Nookta must be provisioned and planned.  Lastly, I must sell and transfer Nookta to you.”  When James neared the end, he watched Lorna carefully for her reaction.  She took the last item of news calmly, but did not make eye contact.  After a pause she took a long gulp of wine.  Setting her glass down, she asked, “I assume that this is a necessity as there is quite possibly a bounty on your head?  Are we to be business partners?”

“On paper yes. You will own the land, I will own the ship.  The Prince will forget about me at some point, I have removed a thorn in his side and quite possibly made his India negotiations easier with the East India.  But for now, I will take no chances.”

“You say we will be partners on paper only. Your meaning?”

James took a sip of wine. He knew he had to choose his words with care, as he could feel her tension coiled within her. “If you have no wish to help with the business of trading, you do not need to.    Lorna, you can see that I suffer from some form of madness, just as my mother and father did.  I am not a good man.  But I do see you as a partner in more than just business.  If we complete this transaction, we are bound by my mother’s land, which is a much older and more powerful bond than those followed by the Church and England.  To keep you safe, I cannot marry you.  You must keep the land safe. If you do not, my madness will kill me.  And then maybe you will hear me sing to you.” 

Lorna was experiencing a mixture of emotions- fear, happiness, frustration, confusion. She decided to take the sensible route, and get some questions answered.

“I have a number of questions before I consider your offer.” James inclined his head, so she continued. “First, who will be travelling with us to Nookta?”

“Robert. Cholmondeley is already on retainer to the port of San Francisco.  Atticus and French Bill.  Any of this crew that chooses to continue.  I am going to ask Godders to be my clerk and take charge of the accounts.  Pearl as a companion and governess to Robert.”

“Pearl?! A governess?!”

“Mmmfh. I will need you to use your artistic talents to craft her into a governess while in Boston.  New wardrobe.  We shall be spending quite some time in various ports along the coast as we must tackle the Passage in the warmer months of the Southern hemisphere.  We would travel as the Delaney family, with governess, clerk and teacher in tow.  I would encourage you to not expect pleasant domesticity on the ship, nor all the time on land.”

“My expectations are never high if Cholmondeley and Atticus are involved.” Lorna moved onto her knees and grasped James’ face in between her hands. “God forgive me, but I accept your offer.  I will act as your wife when needed.  But we will be bound, James.  And I will hold you to that and to your promise to keep me safe.”

James pulled her onto his lap and began unfastening the ties to her wrap. Lorna searched his eyes and found the response she needed to see.  Moving forward, she ground her center against his hardness and kissed him passionately, moving for more contact.  James pushed the wrap off her shoulders and onto the floor.  He made quick work of his belt and the fastenings on his trousers, and stroked himself twice quickly.  Grabbing her hips he moved her and slid her home.  Threading his hand into her hair, he pulled her face back.  “We are bound, Mine.  No more questions.  I am going to bind you to me, and then keep binding you, until you only know my name.”


	11. Trading the old coat for new

James stood in the entry way of the property that he would be renting while in Boston. The agent/attorney, a smallish man by the name of Hopkins, hovered in the doorway, fidgeting with the roll of parchment. James knew he made the man nervous, and was responding with various grunts in order to drive the weekly rental price down. The home, a stone multiple story monstrosity near the financial district and docks of Boston, would lend an air of respectability to the very not respectable League of the Damned. But the point was to start crafting a new life, shedding the old like a well-worn coat.

Taking a last glance around, James grunted. It would be good to get Lorna and the others off the boat. Hopkins, fussing behind him, offered “We can add in a weekly coal delivery to the price…”  
James turned. “I will take it. Have the addendum added to the lease and delivered to my hotel. I will sign it this evening.” James pushed past the small man and began walking back to the docks. Time to organize the offloading of all the cargo.

***

Lorna was standing on the deck when she saw James returning, with Atticus and French Bill rowing slowly back to the Good Hope. It had been a long three days of waiting, anchored in the mouth of the bay. They had been boarded by Americans, and once again, the documents provided by Carlsbad had worked their magic. They had not been bothered since. But James had been on land, starting the process of finding a residence and finding a buyer for the ship. He had returned very briefly on the second day, and had spent a quiet moment with her in his cabin. She reflected on that moment as she watched the boat draw near. He had not said a word, just placed his hands on either side of her face, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs as he stared into her eyes. She had seen pain, hope, worry and passion all flash through his gaze before he finally lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss had seared her soul, as all the things he could not say were embedded in the embrace. Not for the first time, Lorna wondered what the first night in an actual bed would be like.

***

The next day was a flurry of activity, with the gunpowder and wine being moved to a hidden location scouted by Atticus, and the “family” being moved into the townhouse. Sailors were paid and released, a day cook was hired, Atticus and French Bill retained and provided with rooms by the docks. James escorted the “family” to where they would be residing the few months that it would take to regroup for the trip south. After turning the house key over to Lorna, and receiving a dazzling smile, James bid them good day, reminding present company that he would return for dinner. It was understood that he had business, and the Lorna would be getting the household settled.

Lorna wasted no time. The top floor of the home had 3 bedrooms, Cholmondeley and Godfrey were given the entire floor. The second floor contained the master bedroom and parlor, and two smaller bedrooms across the hall. Robert and Pearl were given the smaller rooms, with Lorna noting that a talk with Pearl about practicing her prior craft was looming large on the horizon. As there was no time like the present, Lorna made sure the men and Robert were comfortable, and pulled Pearl into the sitting room on the main floor.

“Pearl, while we are here in Boston, James will need you to act as governess to Robert. Will you be able to …um…refrain from your past activities?”

Pearl giggled and glanced up at Lorna. “Does that include Mr. Cholmondeley?”

For a moment Lorna was speechless. Mulling over the repercussions that were sure to befall the household if Mr. Cholmondeley was let loose on an unsuspecting Boston, Lorna quickly made a decision. “What you and Mr. Cholmondeley do with your personal time is none of my concern Pearl. Just please keep it to the third floor and away from Robert? Although that boy already knows more than he should on this subject.” Receiving a smile and nod from Pearl, Lorna barreled on, “Now, you will need a new wardrobe, and we will have to discuss your deportment when you are outside of the home……”

Robert tiptoed away from the sitting room and back up the stairs. He had a report to give Cholmondeley, and he knew that the man would be pleased. 

***

James Delaney sat in a tavern and allowed himself a second glass of brandy. Much had been accomplished that day, and he was looking forward to dinner. In front of him, tied with red ribbon, was the document transferring the deed to Nookta to Lorna Bow Delaney. The land would be in her name, while the trading post and shipping company would remain his. After leaving Hopkins’ office earlier, James had stood at the Bays edge staring at the water. His mother had come, as he knew she would. She had kissed his forehead and then waded out into the water. Lorna, headstrong Lorna, would keep the land safe. But how to keep Lorna safe, that was the larger concern.

Atticus and French Bill approached the table and sat. 

“Well, James, your name and reputation have not preceded you, my boy.” Atticus smiled as he lifted his tankard to his lips.

“Good. I will need to know if anything changes. Now, I have found a buyer for the Good Hope. We will need a new ship- larger and stronger. Men experienced in crossing Drake’s Passage.”   
French Bill and Atticus leaned forward as James detailed the next few weeks of work. After an hour, James took his leave and headed west towards dinner, and Lorna.

***

When James entered the house, he was struck with mouthwatering aroma of food. Lorna breezed out of the sitting room to great him, taking his coat and hat. 

“You sir, are taking a bath.” She stated. He raised an eyebrow and then noticed the fresh scrubbed look about her face, her curls glittering as they were still slightly damp. “I had fresh water brought in for you,” she continued, “and everyone else has bathed. You stink of muck, James.” She bustled him up to the parlor off the master bedroom. 

James sat heavily on a chair, and pulled off his boots. “Are you going to help me, Mrs. Delaney?” He asked and took her hand. Lorna pulled him up to stand and helped undo his trousers. Kissing him gently, she let his pants drop to the floor and then pulled away. “Not this time James. Come down when you are clean and dressed.” James grunted as she left the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Turning to the hip bath, James pondered the last time he had been truly clean. Probably as a babe.


	12. Smoke and Parchment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone :) Hopefully filming on Season 2 will be sometime soon and we will get some stills. That, I think, would be wonderful.

Dinner was a rather stilted affair to start, with the day cook still there and setting dishes on the side board. Although a man of few words, the silence broken by trivial questions soon began to grate on James’ nerves. He dismissed the day cook for the evening, and returned with two bottles of wine. 

After filling each glass with the dark burgundy liquid, James sat, and swept the table with a look, gathering all their eyes to him. “Now, let us get down to business.”

James leaned back in his chair, slouching down in a manner that caused Lorna to remember evenings in Chamber House. “Each and everyone one of you will be with me until we reach Port Diego on the Pacific coast. After that, other than Mrs. Delaney and Robert, you will each be able to choose your own path. You can remain in my employ and voyage on to Nookta, or you can disembark. Godders, I will need you tomorrow as we will be going to the docks tomorrow to attend a ship auction. Mr. Cholmondeley, I will need to speak with you in private.” James stood and nodded to Mr. Cholmondeley, and moved towards the sitting room. 

As he passed Lorna, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. He whispered, “I will meet you upstairs shortly, Mine.”

***

As the remainder of the party cleared the table and moved into the kitchen, James entered the sitting room and slumped into a chair, pulling out his pipe. Mr. Cholmondeley poured himself a glass of brandy, and sat, waiting for James to speak. 

After a long pull on the pipe, James breathed out smoke and leveled his eyes on the chemist, “Can you obtain the items you would need to make explosives that are delayed in their reaction?”

Mr. Cholmondeley leaned forward, intrigued, “Are you talking about a delay of minutes, hours or days, Mr. Delaney?”

“What are you able to do, Mr. Cholmondeley?"

***

Mr. Cholmondeley had left James to his ruminations after their discussion was completed. James moved to the fireplace, staring into the flames, pondering the information that Cholmondeley had provided. As he stared, his vision waivered and he saw his mother, standing in the shallows of a land full of rocks and conifers, gesturing to him to come. No words or sound, just an instinctive pull. 

Come. Come.

James shook his head and crouched to bank down the logs for the evening. He now knew that it would be best for them all to be on their way sooner rather than later.

Upstairs, Lorna sat at the vanity in her shift and brushed her hair slowly, trying to tame her tresses and her nerves at the same time. A thick roll of parchment tied with a ribbon sat on the table in their parlor, and the bed was turned down for the night. The male rumbling of distant conversation had stopped, so James should be coming upstairs for her shortly. Her pulse quickened and Lorna forced herself to take a deep breath. She should not be suffering from opening night jitters any longer, she chided herself. Just at that moment, James quietly entered the room, bringing with him the faint aroma of tobacco smoke and brandy. James came up behind her and took the brush from her hand, and looked at her in the mirror. He smoothed his hands over her locks once, twice, and then twisted his left hand in her hair, pulling her head back and exposing her neck for plunder. He kissed her mouth, a kiss that left her panting, and moved to lick at the pulse point in her neck. 

When she opened her mouth to speak, James placed a finger over her mouth and whispered “Shhhhh”. Tonight would be all about showing her how much she meant to him. There would be no words needed. 

Moving his right hand to her waist, he pulled her slowly out of the chair and led her to the edge of the bed. Never breaking eye contact, he had her sit and then unwinding his hand from her hair, he pushed her slowly back on the bed. As her eyes shut, James slowly ran both hands down her torso, kneading her breasts before moving onto his knees between her legs. His hands smoothing down her legs and then traced the jumping muscles back up, moving her shift with his hands slowly, revealing her to him inch by inch. After the shift was bunched at her waist, James pushed her thighs apart gently and blew a breath of air across her heated core. Lorna shuddered in response, and fisted her hands in the sheets. A quiet “James” caused him to look up and shush her briefly before he parted her outer lips with his thumbs. A quick lick from bottom to top caused another shiver over her entire body, and after pausing to observe the beautiful flush across her chest and face, James nuzzled his nose against her clit and began licking her entrance in earnest. 

Lorna rolled her head back and forth as wave after wave of pleasure racked her body. James moved to suck the bundle of nerves, alternately laving with his tongue and applying pressure with his lips and teeth. He inserted one, then two fingers in her opening, curling them up just so. He kept his pace consistent, focusing on her keens and moans for guidance. Her juices coated his lips and beard, the musky smell causing his cock to throb and strain against the fabric of his trousers. As her inner walls began to tremble, James increased the thrusting of his fingers as she came. Lorna’s back arched off the bed, her thighs squeezing his head as her hand fisted in his hair. Abruptly she relaxed into a boneless display on the bed, releasing his head from her grasp. As she slowly floated back to her body, she opened her eyes and saw that James was standing, slowly removing his clothing. She raised herself up and lifted the shift off her body entirely as James removed his last item of clothing. He stood naked in front of her, the firelight dancing off the hard planes of his body, pre-cum glistening at the tip of his erection. She had never seen anything so beautiful. The power radiating off his person caused a new sharp stab of arousal in her belly. Lorna reached to stroke him, but James grasped her hand in his and in a blink pulled her up so that they were both lying on the bed, his firm weight pressing her into the mattress. He wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed her, his tongue breaching her lips and tangling with her own. Not breaking this connection, James reached down and ran the tip of his cock against her opening, spreading her juices over the head. Slowly, he pushed in, filling her completely. 

Breaking the kiss, Lorna wrapped her legs around him, and looked into his eyes as he fucked her in an easy pace, stoking their arousal higher and higher. James pushed up, straightening his arms to change the angle of his strokes, moving faster as their breaths came more erratically. He felt the fluttering of her walls, letting him know that she was close. Lorna closed her eyes and bit her lower lip, a gesture of such innocent pleasure, that James felt his balls tighten as his own orgasm quickly followed hers.

Afterwards, they lie tangled together, hands entwined with Lorna pulled to his chest. Without saying a word, Lorna knew that the parchment sitting on the table of the parlor could wait until morning. For now they were both content to just be.


	13. The Toad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of plot development. I am on tumblr now, you can find me as ihaveauseforyou.

James and Lorna awoke the next morning to a muffled explosion, followed by running footsteps and a string of profanity as Mr. Cholmondeley and his partners in crime ran back and forth in the rooms above their heads. James squeezed Lorna’s arm in greeting and quickly propelled himself up and towards the door.

“You should really consider putting on some trousers,” Lorna called, causing his hand to hesitate at the door knob. Turning, he quickly grabbed his long shirt and tugged it over his head, heading out to see what type of damage had been done. Lorna stretched and reached for her dressing gown. Fingering the rolled parchment, she sat down to read the document before James returned.

***

James entered the attic space and was immediately accosted with a large cloud of noxious fumes that caused his eyes to water. Robert, sitting on the top step of the stairwell, was wheezing but whether it was laughter or a result of the fumes, James could not tell. “CHOLMONDELEY!” James bellowed.

“Yes, Mr. Delaney,” came the strangled response of Mr. Cholmondeley, and soon his person appeared through the haze. James looked at the twinkle in the chemist’s eyes, visible over the handkerchief he held over his mouth and nose. It must not be that bad if the chemist found it amusing. But then, he found everything amusing.

“Explain.”

Well, Mr. Delaney…I was showing young Robert how some elements must be treated carefully. A soft touch- not unlike the touch of a lover, no?” The twinkle in Cholmondeley’s eyes brightened considerably, and he wiggled his eyebrows at James. “Young Robert was a bit…enthusiastic…and mixed up a powerful smoke bomb by accident. Which we might be able to modify to use for other purposes. So I consider this to be a happy accident, and there is no permanent damage. So you may return to that delightful woman in your room. Enthusiasm, Mr. Delaney, should be encouraged in all acts, don’t you agree?” More eyebrow wiggles.

James stared at Cholmondeley, his eyes wide and clearly conveying that she was still off limits, even in jest. He then grunted, turned and ruffled Robert’s hair as he descended the stairs.

***

James slipped back into the master bedroom, and noticed that Lorna was no longer in bed, peering into the parlor, he saw her sitting curled up in a chair with the parchment on the table next to her. James briefly hoped that he was not heading from the frying pan into the fire. He moved into the parlor, standing over her shoulder.

She had already signed the parchment.

She tilted her head up to acknowledge his presence, and he leaned in and captured her lips. After a moment, separated by only millimeters of air, he breathed, “Thank you.”

***

Later that morning, James strode down the streets to Hopkins’ office, the parchment neatly rolled and in hand. He would sign in the presence of counsel, and then have it filed in the land registrar’s office. 

After the business with the land was satisfactorily resolved, James went to the public stable and rented a horse. He needed to get out of the city and clear his head. He followed the roads along the Charles River until the cobbles ran out and turned to dirt, and then when the road became a weed choked trail. As he suspected, as soon as he hobbled his horse, he could hear the sounds of someone following him. 

***

Mr. Quincy was a rather large man, and he did not enjoy being on a horse. But on a horse he was, with a proposal for the rather distasteful man that he was following. Mr. Quincy, in his younger years, had been a spy and courier for the Continental Army, and due to favors being owed, had been called into service to relay an offer from the President of the United States. News of certain atrocities related to the man ahead had been passed on to Mr. Quincy, so a quiet spot but forthright manner would best serve the circumstances, he thought.

After dismounting, Mr. Quincy carefully brushed down and arraigned his great coat. Clearing his throat, he spoke clearly and with some carrying power, “Mr. Delaney.” The response was almost immediate, there was pressure to his belly and a whisper in his ear, “Your clothing is too fine to spoil it with blood, so why don’t you tell me who you are and why you are following me?”

“If you would be so kind as to remove your knife, Mr. Delaney, I have a missive from the President of the United States of America that I was instructed to deposit into your hands, and your hands alone.”

“hmmm.” The pressure disappeared, and James took a step back. 

Mr. Quincy took a deep breath and turned around. “My name is unimportant as I doubt we will ever meet face to face again.” He pulled out a thick envelope, sealed with the presidential emblem, and handed it to James. “Your response may be provided to the owner of the Calverton Arms tavern in town. It should be sealed and will be discretely delivered to the President. I bid you good day, Mr. Delaney.”

James took the envelope, and took a step forward to close the space between himself and the toad of a man in front of him. “Do not mistake me, Mr. Quincy. I am well aware of who you are and what it is that you do. I will read the proposal, but take my own counsel. And I am not in need of the help that I am sure the President is offering. You may go.”

Mr. Quincy blustered a bit at the rude dismissal, but as Mr. Delaney had already stalked off into the thicket, the only thing Mr. Quincy could do was gather his horse and leave, with as much affronted dignity as he could muster. 

***

James, stowing the letter in his coat, listened to the sounds of Mr. Quincy, the tea importer, heading back in the direction of Boston. After a moment, when the ravens had settled, James set up a small fire near the bank of the river and took out his powders and other implements. Wafting the smoke over his head with feathers to cleanse himself, he began streaking pigment on his face and throwing some in the fire. The smoke swirled and changed colors, and the ravens tittered and clustered above. The visions came quickly- his mother standing on a rocky shore, beckoning; the bow of a ship crashing through heavy seas; his father, smiling as he walked away and vanished. Everything faded to gray, and James was readying himself to complete the cleansing ritual when a voice caught his attention. Focusing his mind’s eye on nondescript words, a face shimmered into view. Winter. He then understood what it was that she was saying.

“Keep her safe James.”


	14. High Treason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay, but real life decided to be horrid and I just needed some time.

The thick envelope with the presidential seal burned very easily in the sitting room fireplace later that evening. The letter soon followed, and James watched the edges blacken and curl.  The pages soon succumbed to the flames, the ink becoming unintelligible and the pages ash.

James mulled over the very unimaginative offer that the United States had made. These men were all alike. Power, but no imagination. It was very easy for James to see their plans, as if a chess board were sitting right in front of him. Grunting, he turned towards the door, grabbing his hat and coat. 

Lorna, upstairs reading to Robert, started at the sound of the door slamming. Moving to the window she watched as James walked with purpose toward the Port.  Turning back to Robert, “Is everything at the ready?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I told you not to call me that, Robert. Please call me Lorna.  And I think things are going to start happening very quickly now.  He has that look about him.”

 

***

 

As Lorna sat in a small rowboat at approximately 3 a.m. two days later, she looked at the sky and thanked the stars that she had noticed the signs so that the other members of the household were somewhat prepared for what happened. With her on the boat were, Pearl, Robert and Godfrey.  The fact that Mr. Cholmondeley was missing, which meant that James had provided _him_ , and his chemicals, advanced notice of their imminent departure….  Words.  There would be words between her and James later.  

Lorna thought back over the last few hours.  She had been woken by James at midnight and instructed to dress and pack what items she could quickly. The look on James’ face when she stood and removed an already packed case from beneath the bed would give her satisfaction for some years to come.  After dressing, Lorna went to rouse Pearl, while James must have woken Robert and Godfrey.  Each member of the household had an already packed case hidden.  Moving quietly with no candle light, they all had then gathered in the kitchen.   As Lorna had scanned their faces, she was not surprised to find Robert's eyes gleaming with excitement.  Godfrey had given her a slight smile, and Pearl had grasped her hand and gave it a small squeeze.  Whatever came next, Lorna had known then that they were all ready.

James had placed a finger to his lips, and they all nodded.  There would be no speaking was understood.  James then led the party through the back alley to a closed carriage that was waiting, driven by French Bill.

Seating had been tight in the carriage- they had to fit all the cases and themselves into the compartment so as to not disclose that the entire household was in fact leaving. Pearl had ended up on Godfrey’s lap, and Robert rode the entire way perched on top of a pile of cases.  As Lorna had stepped up, James gave her arm a squeeze, quiet acknowledgement of her preparedness.  James had ridden next to French Bill, and the horses were kept to a walk until they were past the city limits.  Peeking through the curtains, it appeared to Lorna that they were heading south along the shore.

After over an hour, they had stopped. French Bill cut the horses loose, and they walked the remainder of the way, hearing the lapping of the tide approaching.

And now they were in a boat, rowing towards a large object further out to sea which was apparently the new ship that James had purchased. James had made it very clear that talking was prohibited, so Lorna leaned against Robert, who was too wound up to sleep, and allowed the sway of the boat to lull her into sleep.  She would just have to trust that James would keep her safe.

 

***

As the ship approached, James scanned the rapidly distant shore. So far so good.  They had not been followed, and by not telling any of the household of the plans, they had effectively fooled the government agents that were watching the house. 

They reached the ship with no further problems, and a ladder was thrown down, looking up James saw the grin of Atticus. “Well me boy, it all worked out it seems.”

‘Mmmuah” was the only response from James. The “family” was helped on board, and then the cases were handed up.  After stowing the dingy, Atticus gave the order to haul anchor and unfurl the sails.  Turning to the newcomers, Atticus placed his hands on his hips and smiled, “Welcome aboard the _High Treason_.” 

That received a snort from Lorna. “Really, James.”

Atticus laughed. “No, really Miss, that is her name.”  He leaned towards Lorna, and said in a stage whisper, “I think that’d be why James bought her.”

The High Treason was much larger than the Good Hope, and James quickly took the “family” below decks, and then pulled Atticus aside. Cholmondeley was waiting with tea at the great table, and stood upon their arrival, "Here we are, all one happy family again."  Lorna gave him a withering look. 

"I see, Mr. Cholmondeley, that you and your chemicals are more important than clothing on our backs?"

"Now, Miss Bow, you do not think that our conniving leader would have left behind all the items he had you prepare, leaving you in nought but your shift for us all to see?"  Cholmondeley replied, handing her a cup of tea.

"I am assuming that what had not been delivered to the house was delivered to the ship.  I certainly hope that everything fits."  Lorna sighed.

After refreshing themselves briefly, James instructed everyone to get some sleep.  Atticus was bunking with the crew, allowing Cholmondeley, Godfrey and Robert to take the two small cabins to each side of the dining area.  Pearl was given the small room next to the Captains quarters, almost a closet, that was typically given the cabin boy.  But it provided her with a private space, which as the only other female on the ship was needed.  Finally, after providing for everyone else, James brought Lorna into the captains quarters. 

“You, madam, will be bunking with me. Now, get some sleep.”

Lorna opened her mouth, questions ready to bubble forth. James stopped her mouth with a kiss. 

“You need sleep, and I need to plot our course with Atticus.” James turned and opened the cabin door to leave.

“James. Are we headed to Nootka now?”

James paused at the door.  “Yes, Mine.  But first, we will be paying a visit to Jumby Bay, Antigua.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
